Neverwas
by gleefulmusings
Summary: An AU Harry Potter finds himself and his two companions stranded in yet another AU.


**Author's Notes**: I've done a bit of retooling since I first posted this, as it was necessary to form a more clear image of where I wanted this to go. Slash. Coarse language, violence, and deaths. Surprise crossover later. Enjoy!

* * *

It was a spectacularly muggy August day in the Scottish highlands when the most incredible event to which Albus Dumbledore had ever borne witness occurred.

Said event commenced right at the close of luncheon in the Great Hall. Albus was partaking of a particularly delicious raspberry tart, blissfully ignoring the vicious exchange of insults between Professors Snape and Potter while eavesdropping on the muttered whisperings amongst Professors Flitwick, McGonagall, and Lily Potter, when the castle began rumbling from its very foundations.

"What on earth!" McGonagall snapped, quite displeased to be interrupted.

Severus and James immediately drew their wands before glaring and turning them on each other. Lily rolled her eyes, which set Filius to snickering. Hagrid tried to play peacekeeper but his efforts were in vain. Aurora Sinistra calmly sipped her tea while Bathsheba Babbling scoffed at Sybill Trelawney, who announced she had foreseen all of this with her inner eye.

Albus was quite excited by whatever was about to unfold. The day had been rather dull, in his opinion. Therefore he was content to do nothing but nibble on his tart and contemplate what it all meant.

The voices were heard before their bearers were seen, which was quite unusual to say the least.

"I hope this one is better than the last," said a sour and distinctly male voice.

"I found the prior to be fascinating," said the ethereal voice of a young girl.

"Of course you did," a third voice, also male, drawled.

"Play nice, children," said the first. "I'm quite sure we're about to be met by several curious people."

"Oh, how exiting!" the girl exclaimed. "Visitors!"

"Technically, _we're_ the visitors, darling," the other man snickered.

A ball of light erupted at the foot of the faculty table, so bright that the bystanders were forced to look away. Slowly, the light petered out and the occupants of the room immediately leveled stares at the space. There before them stood three individuals of slightly below average height, each of whom was wearing a peculiar cloak with the hood pulled over their head.

"I demand an explanation!" McGonagall barked, rising to her feet.

"They blew right the through the wards of the castle as if they didn't exist," muttered a stunned Lily Potter.

Snape glared at the robes. "Unspeakables," he hissed, rolling his eyes.

"Hello!" Dumbledore cheerfully called out, waving gaily at the unexpected guests. "Who might you be?"

Girlish laughter was the only response as one of the three slowly pulled back her hood. "Well, hello, Albus! I do love your fetching robe!"

Dumbledore blinked at the familiarity before offering a smile bright enough to power the continental seaboard. "Why thank you, young lady!"

"That's Luna Lovegood," Lily whispered in a strangled voice. All of the girl's hair had been sheared off into something resembling a pixie cut. Although it was quite becoming, it did nothing to disguise the faint scar that traveled from just beneath her left eye to the very edge of her face, along the cheekbone and ending just where her ear began.

"Surely not!" Filius cried, hopping onto his seat to get a better view before collapsing in shock.

Luna sighed. "Oh, dear." She turned toward her two companions. "It appears I died in this one, too." She shook her head sadly. "I hope it wasn't at Malfoy Manor again. Burning it down every time is no longer quite as interesting."

The teachers stared.

Luna peered at them speculatively. "Well, this hasn't happened before." She turned to one of her companions. "I think we should leave. We're not prepared for this."

"And go where?" a rough voice demanded. "We have no choice. We stay until we're sent away again."

"Harry..." she said softly.

It wasn't soft enough, for James and Lily heard it clearly before time and their heartbeats stopped. If Luna Lovegood was alive in some shape and form, if she had a companion she addressed as _Harry_, then maybe, just _maybe.._.

The cloaked stranger released a resigned growl and threw back his hood, glaring at the table.

"Harry!" his father warbled.

"Stop," Harry said, holding up a hand. "I am not your Harry. I am not your son. I wasn't raised by you. I never knew you. You know nothing about me. We are here in this dimension for reasons yet to be revealed to us, but I am not your son. At most, I am a distant relation." He grimaced. "And before you even start..."

A flick of the wand and Severus Snape found he no longer had a mouth.

"No comments from the peanut gallery, thank you," Harry said crisply. "You should also consider saving yourself the time and effort of trying to violate my mind. I am a far superior Occlumens." He raised a brow. "Should you try, you will find yourself imprisoned within my mind and unable to return to your body until it amuses me to allow it."

Severus decided it was not in his best interest to test that hypothesis.

"Harry," Dumbledore whispered, sagging heavily in his chair.

"Hello, Albus," Harry hissed. "I suppose you have questions. You usually do in this circumstance." He shrugged. "Shall we adjourn to your office, then?" He smirked. "I'm quite sure you don't wish your colleagues to hear some of my answers."

Albus paled even further. This was not any version of Harry Potter for which he had ever prepared. "Y-Yes," he stuttered. "I imagine you're quite right, Harry."

"Now wait just a minute!" Lily screeched, suppressing her hurt at her son's apparent disinterest.

"We don't have a minute, Mrs. Potter," Luna said. "We don't know how long we'll be here and it's very necessary for us to learn as much about this world as quickly as possible."

"Three questions," the third of their company bellowed. "First, is Voldemort alive here? Second, who is the Minister for Magic? Finally, do you have a Chocolate Frog?"

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Yes to the first," said a peevish McGonagall.

"Owain Greengrass," announced Pomona Sprout.

Hagrid threw a Chocolate Frog. It landed at the feet of the questioner, who bent over to pick it up. When he righted himself, his hood fell back.

"Mr. Finnigan?" a stunned Minerva whispered.

But surely not! Surely the heavily scarred young man in front of her with the raspy voice couldn't be the fun-loving scallywag she had known and monitored for five years!

The others watched, speechless, as Harry withdrew a handkerchief and tenderly rubbed off the chocolate now lining Seamus' lips.

"I got all messy, huh?" murmured a chagrined Seamus.

"You're beautiful always," Harry said softly before leaning over and pressing a loving kiss to the other boy's mouth.

Seamus sighed with contentedness as he relaxed and curled into Harry's side.

Minerva frowned. This was not the Seamus she had known. This boy's damage extended far beyond the physical.

James Potter watched this with horrified fascination and not a bit of disappointment.

"Oh, really?" drawled an annoyed Luna. "James Potter, have you forgotten your weekly excursions to the broom cupboard on the fifth floor, east wing, with Angelo Zabini?"

Spots of color appeared high on James's cheeks as his mouth fell open.

Snape wondered how on earth he had missed this little tidbit, especially considering all the spying he had on the Marauders during their Hogwarts years.

"I'm sorry?" huffed a cross Lily, staring at her husband.

"How did you know?" he was helpless to croak at Luna.

He withered when his son pinned him with a searing gaze.

"We know many things," Harry said evenly, "especially that which most would prefer to remain hidden. All of you should think about that and do so carefully. So should we move this to your office, Headmaster, before I begin discussing your former lover and other family secrets?"

"At once," said a mortified Dumbledore, nimbly hopping to his feet. "If you'll follow me."

"We'll meet you there," Harry said shortly, before the three of them disappeared.

Snape, who had suddenly recovered his mouth, stared at the spot that had been occupied a mere second before. "But...but you _cannot_ Apparate inside Hogwarts or on the grounds!"

Dumbledore hurried from the Hall, James and Lily hot on his tail.

"He's alive," Hagrid mumbled between sobs. "Harry's _alive_."

"That's not our Harry," a haunted Minerva sadly whispered, "and Mr. Finnigan...his scar..."

A newly roused Flitwick merely nodded, his own thoughts consumed with Miss Lovegood as his regrets of what she had suffered in his House rushed forward from the back of his mind.

Sprout wondered if the prophecy still had relevance.

Yes, the Harry Potter they had known was long dead, but another had just arrived. Would the prophecy still hold? Was this the power the Dark Lord knew not? A quick glance at Severus assured her that he was having similar thoughts.

Indeed, Snape's mind was racing with the implications. Voldemort had only recently been returned to a physical body, but his malevolence was extending throughout the wizarding world at an alarming rate. The Dark Lord no longer was interested in sitting back passively and watching his minions murder and die for his cause. He was on a timetable which no one understood but him.

Despite all of their concerns, the absurdities, the outright impossibilities, each of them had only one question on their minds: what were they going to do about this second coming of the Child of Prophecy?

* * *

Upon depositing themselves in the Headmaster's office, Luna immediately scurried off to Dumbledore's makeshift library while Seamus promptly sat down before the desk and began eating lemon drops. Harry slowly turned and glared at Fawkes.

"Damn bird," he muttered.

Fawkes released an admonishing trill at which Harry rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah," he said dismissively, "I've heard it all before, Turkey Lurkey, and I'm still here, aren't I?"

"Who are you to infiltrate the Headmaster's office!" a surly voice demanded.

Harry whirled on his heel, eyes sparkling with menace. "Why, Phineas Nigellus! How lovely to know you're miserably constipated in every universe!"

Luna cackled from behind a bookshelf.

"Boy! You will explain yourself at once!" the portrait barked.

Dumbledore and the Potters tumbled through the doorway of his office just in time to hear Harry issue his first of what was to be many orders.

"Silence!" he roared. "Your Lord Black commands you!"

An affronted Phineas Nigellus opened his mouth to insist to this young whippersnapper that he was lord of _nothing_, only to discover he had no voice. He blinked in shock, for only the seated Lord Black could command him in such a manner. But what of Sirius?

Harry merely smirked.

"Lord Black?" Dumbledore murmured.

Harry turned and shrugged. "That was the only thing Sirius felt he could do for me, the only thing he slipped past you. Let's just call it a free gift with very large purchase." He shook his head. "As much as it pisses me off the old dog snuck that in there, I remain grateful."

"Sirius is dead in your world?" James asked.

Harry met his father's eyes for the first time. "Everyone is dead in our world."

"Surely not everyone," Lily said, her voice kind and just slightly condescending.

Harry gave her a flat stare. "You both are dead. Sirius is dead. Lupin is dead. Snape is dead. McGonagall is dead. Dumbledore is dead. Poppy is dead. Tonks is dead. Andromeda is dead. Narcissa is dead. Shacklebolt is dead. The Ministry folded early in the war, and Alastor Moody and Amelia Bones were among the first to be assassinated. Hogwarts is dead. They're all dead. Magical Britain is _dead_."

"Oh, yes, he's quite right," chimed in a helpful Luna, appearing from behind a bookcase with her wand tucked behind an ear. "There's just us, now. My Daddy was killed along with all of the Weasleys, and Neville and his Gran." She cocked her head and her face turned thoughtful. "There are perhaps some who managed to escape to the Continent or America, but it's not as though they would advertise it, is it?"

"All dead!" Seamus cackled. "I should have died. Wish I had. Still here, though. Thought only Harry had stupidly good luck. Or bad luck. Luck be a lady tonight. Luck is a fickle bitch."

Harry frowned, walked over to the boy, and gently carded his fingers through Seamus' hair. Seamus closed his eyes, exhaled softly, and fell silent.

Harry looked impassively at his parents and Dumbledore, who were staring at him with no small amount of horror. Finally, he rolled his eyes.

"Right," he began, "time to get this show on the road. Long story short: there was a war. Voldemort returned. Thanks to Dumbles here and that bloody prophecy, I had to fight him. I won and he died, but so did everyone else."

They continued to stare.

Harry released a slow, measured breath to temper his annoyance. "At any rate, I need to understand _this_ world, so I will be asking questions and you will answer them."

"Now, Harry..." began a jovial Dumbledore.

Harry's eyes flashed. "Silence, Dumbledore. It's your bloody fault all of this happened, so do shut up. You only speak half-truths when you're not speaking in stupidities."

Dumbledore's eyes widened. They widened further when Fawkes laughed at him.

"Young man, you will show the Headmaster respect!" James thundered.

To everyone's surprise, Harry merely laughed.

"Oh, I tried that the first time round, see," he said, voice cold, "and it was a spectacular failure. The senile old fart imagines this is some exquisite game of which he fancies himself the chess master." He shook his head. "Not again. I'll not sit idly by while Dumbledore doles out information piecemeal when he deems it necessary. This is no game. This is my _life_, and I've watched far too many die because of this fool's obsessive need to control everyone around him."

He turned arctic eyes on Dumbledore. "Don't even think about it, Dumbles. I see that moronic glint in your eyes. If you truly believe that I'll allow you to use me to defeat Voldemort, you are sadly mistaken. I don't know what would have become of this world's Harry, but rest assured that I am _not_ him. I have far more power than you ever anticipated, power that eclipses your own, so I want you to think _very_ hard with regard to this question: do you want to play the benevolent dictator, or do you want to _live_?"

"You will not speak to me this way, boy!" Dumbledore shouted.

Harry shrugged, waved his wand, and Dumbledore's mouth disappeared.

He smirked. "First, never again call me _boy_. Second, good luck trying to get your fat mouth back. It's a spell of my own invention and only I can reverse it. Nifty, isn't it? You and Mr. Potter here are not the only Transfiguration Masters in the room. Now sit down."

Dumbledore blinked, walked over to his desk, took a seat, and waited.

"You're a Transfiguration Master?" asked an excited James.

"I don't have the diploma," Harry said, "but yes. I am also considered a Master in Charms and Defense." He grinned. "So, you see, I inherited something from you, your wife, and Sirius."

"Why do you call Sirius by his name, but you refer to us only as Mr. and Mrs. Potter?" asked a sad Lily.

Harry sighed. "Please take no offense, but I don't know you. Oh, I've met your various analogues throughout any number of worlds, but I never knew _my_ parents."

Lily opened her mouth to clarify some points, but Harry cut her off.

"I will explain everything," Harry said, "but what Luna said in the Great Hall is true. We have no idea how long we'll be here, so time is of the absolute essence. If I'm to defeat your Voldemort, I have to understand him."

"You're a child!" James protested.

"Oh, really?" drawled a sardonic Harry. "You have no idea about my life or what it has entailed, so please do not speak as if you do. I have never been a child. I was never allowed to be. Now what is happening in this world with your Voldemort?"

He listened with half an ear as his parents rambled on about attacks, betrayals, and battles before realizing that he had asked far too general a question. His own fault, really, but it was time to get back on track.

He help up a hand. "Apologies, but I can't deconstruct your points while you shout over each other, so let's take a different tack. Before I was born, Sybill Trelawney made a prophecy regarding the birth of a child who would defeat Voldemort. Did that happen here, as well?"

They nodded.

"In my world, the prophecy pertained to two possibilities: myself and Susan Bones. Is that also true for you?"

Lily's eyes widened. "No," she breathed."For us, it was either you or Neville Longbottom."

Harry nodded. "That's not too surprising. Neville and I were very close, particularly after we discovered we were godbrothers." He shook his head. "Where is Neville now?"

His parents looked at each other. Harry turned and saw Dumbledore drop his head.

"He's dead," he surmised. "Let me guess: Pettigrew killed him to resurrect Voldemort."

"Yes," Lily whispered, her thoughts drifting to her friend Alice, who had been committed after learning of her son's murder. Frank had quit the Aurors, withdrawing completely from public life. Augusta, ever the political animal, was the now leading the fight against Voldemort from behind the scenes, where a woman as shrewd as she could exercise _real _power.

Harry pressed his lips into a tight line. "At any rate," he continued after a moment's pause, "in my world the choice was either me or Susan. Unfortunately - or fortunately, depending on how you look at it - my world's Dumbledore and Voldemort were quite misogynistic and couldn't believe a female would be able to rival Voldemort."

Lily curled a lip and glared over Harry's shoulder at Dumbledore, who withered.

"Idiocy aside," Harry continued, "they both determined the prophecy was applicable only to me, despite the fact that Susan and I shared a birthday and our parents each defied Voldemort three times."

He chewed on his lower lip as his mind raced to fill in the many blanks over which he was pondering. "Regardless, Dumbledore attempted to keep Susan around as a spare, some kind of backup Girl-Who-Lived. What he didn't anticipate was that, as Lady Bones was a Muggleborn and thus unable to claim her late husband's title, the responsibility of Susan's care and political education was overseen by Amelia."

He smirked. "Amelia was a fearsome witch with the talent and power to back it up. Only Voldemort himself was powerful enough to kill her, but before she went, she managed to put out one of his eyes. Trust me when I tell you that Susan was in every way Amelia's heir." He stared sightlessly ahead. "Voldemort eventually took care of her, too."

Lily covered her mouth with a hand, shaking her head, hoping and praying that if she could just deny his words long enough, if she could pretend she had never heard them, then this horrible farce to which her son had been consigned was nothing but rubbish.

"What do you mean when you say you and Neville _discovered_ you were godbrothers?" James asked. "Weren't you raised together?"

Harry's eyes turned flat and dull. "No, we were not, which I will explain in just a moment. First, however, another question: why in the hell did you leave the protections of Potter Castle to hide in some hovel in Godric's Hollow!

"It was utterly stupid!" he bellowed. "The wards on the castle are older than the ones that protect Hogwarts! And please don't argue that it was a strategic move to confuse Voldemort, because if you truly believe that - or were led to believe it - it does both of your alleged intelligences a great disservice. It would have taken years - _decades_ - before Voldemort could have even made a dent on those wards. Instead, you relied on something as flimsy as the Fidelius!"

Lily huffed. "The Fidelius..."

"Is inherently weak," Harry interrupted. "Yes, it works just fine so long as you choose the appropriate Secret Keeper." He held up his hand to stave off their protests. "Understand that I am not condemning you for your choice - whoever it was. However, what I fail to understand is why you didn't choose yourself or your husband for that position? It's only logical."

James blinked. "That...honestly didn't occur to us."

Harry nodded. "You were young and on the run and doing the best you could under the circumstances. Still, Dumbledore was in on the secret. Why didn't you have him as your Secret Keeper? Voldemort never would have been able to wrest it from him."

A horrified Lily again covered her mouth with her hand.

"Further, the Secret Keeper does not have to be human. In one of the worlds we've visited, one in which we stayed longer than anticipated, I inherited Grimmauld Place after Sirius was killed. I recast the Fidelius on the house and made Dobby, an elf and dear friend, the Secret Keeper." He shrugged. "It was foolproof."

He gathered a breath. "Did you choose Pettigrew?"

James nodded dumbly.

Harry scowled and turned away. "That appears to be a universal construct. In every world, the same choice was made." He sighed. "All right, I believe I have some measure of where our timelines diverge. In my world, Pettigrew betrayed the Secret to Voldemort, who came to Godric's Hollow on Halloween and attacked. Sound familiar?"

"Yes," Lily whispered.

"He killed James first, and then you. You had placed yourself between me and Voldemort. He offered to let you live if you would simply move aside and allow him to kill me. You didn't, and he killed you. He then cast the killing curse upon me; it reflected back onto him and he was dispossessed of his body." He cocked his head. "How was it different here?"

James cleared his throat. "I was lured out of the house by Pettigrew. He fed the Order information on an attack that was supposed to take place. Sirius and I acted upon it, leaving you and your mother in the cottage alone. She called Remus and asked him to sit with her..."

"I'm sorry," Harry interrupted, "you didn't trust Remus to be your Secret Keeper, but you _did_ trust him enough to leave him alone with your wife and toddler?"

His sarcasm was lost on no one.

James cleared his throat once again, more heavily this time. "Voldemort showed up with Pettigrew and Greyback in tow. Greyback engaged Remus; they killed one another. Your mother was placed into a comatose state and Voldemort killed you with a cutting curse. There was some kind of backlash - we never determined the cause - and Voldemort was presumed dead."

Harry quirked an eyebrow. "Messy. He usually doesn't resort to such graphic violence." He shook his head. "Poor Remus. He always tried so hard and never believed himself good enough."

"I've never understood why that bastard didn't just kill me," Lily hissed.

Harry's eyes cut toward her. "Because Snape asked him to spare you."

Her eyes bulged. "What?"

Harry shrugged. "He was in love with you. Maybe he still is, I don't know. At any rate, Voldemort agreed. He killed you in my world because you refused to stand aside. Apparently in this world, you weren't given an option."

Lily shuddered with revulsion.

"That son of a bitch," James seethed.

Harry laughed mirthlessly. "You're as responsible for creating Snape as Dumbledore is for creating Voldemort. You can't abuse someone as you did him, especially someone with as much power as he has, and not expect consequences. And before you even argue, immaturity and arrogance are not excuses. You physically and psychologically tortured him for years."

James flushed horribly and looked away.

Harry exhaled. "Well, let's wrap this up. In a nutshell, after you both were dead, Dumbledore was made to realize we had been attacked. How exactly he knew this was never determined. He sent Hagrid to investigate and retrieve me, if I was still alive. I was, and Hagrid was holding me when Sirius appeared. Hagrid expressed he was under orders from Dumbles to bring me to Hogwarts.

"Sirius, in his abject grief or utter stupidity, didn't fight him too hard, despite the fact that he was the named guardian and should have taken me from Hagrid immediately. Instead he chased after Pettigrew, who killed a dozen Muggles and then faked his own death, framing Sirius for all of it. Sirius was thrown into Azkaban without a trial and sat there for the next dozen years until he was able to escape."

"What do you mean he had no trial?" Lily exploded. "That's a basic right granted to all of Her Majesty's subjects!"

Harry shrugged. "I never really understood the particulars, nor did Sirius. It could be argued that Magical Britain was, at that time, under martial law and there was simply too much confusion and chaos to ensure all of the niceties were upheld."

His face darkened. "Or it could be that Sirius's freedom was an impediment for the moronic plan dear Dumbles had concocted. He sealed your wills and left me on the doorstep of Petunia Dursley, by whom I had the pleasure of being raised."

Lily gasped and almost fell over. It was only because of James' quick reflexes that she didn't collapse to the floor.

"My life there was hell," Harry said, voice devoid of emotion. "I was told you both were killed in a drunk driving accident that you caused. My bedroom was the cupboard under the stairs until I received my first Hogwarts letter. I didn't know my own name until I started primary school. I was regularly starved and beaten. I was never taken to a doctor. I was given only hand-me-downs from my porcine cousin and my glasses were from a donation bin; they never had the proper prescription, so my eyesight continually worsened.

"The only good thing the Hogwarts letter brought about, in addition to a real bedroom, was that it convinced them they were being watched. This in turn convinced Vernon to keep his distance from me, thank Merlin, because the older I got, the more his interest in me became carnal."

Lily stood there, dry-eyed, face curiously blank, as James leaned against her and sobbed.

"Which reminds me..." Harry said absently, walking over toward Dumbledore and taking the man's chin in his hands. "You believed you had the right to intrude upon my mind whenever it suited and you allowed your pet Death Eater to rape it until my shields were all but completely degraded, so I think it's time I return the favor."

Dumbledore's eyes widened and he just as quickly tried to shut them, but a quick wave of Harry's wand and his eyes were open and unblinking.

Harry grinned viciously at him. "I became an Occlumens because you forced the issue, but I became a Legilimens on my own initiative." He paused. "Now I know that you're not _my_ Dumbles, but you are also a universal construct, much like Pettigrew, except you use your power and influence to enforce your will on others. You're not that dissimilar to Voldemort, you know. Only your methods differ."

He stared into Dumbledore's eyes. "So, Albus, welcome to my hell, the one you created."

Harry then proceeded to dump all of his memories with the Dursleys into Dumbledore's mind. The old man's shields were strong, true, but Harry's ability was stronger. He had conquered Occlumency, but was truly pants at it; he had the raw power but not the subtlety demanded. His Legilimancy, however, was far stronger and more nuanced than anything Snape, Dumbledore, or Voldemort had ever managed.

He ripped through the Headmaster's shields as if they hadn't existed at all. Once he was done with his adventures in Durzkaban, he started transferring key moments from his time at Hogwarts, particularly focused on those in which Dumbledore had sold him out for the alleged greater good.

It took less than ten seconds.

Dumbledore was left broken and weeping. Harry was courteous enough to return the man's mouth to him.

"Information dump," Harry said casually to the observers. "Dumbles is assimilating all of my memories from the Dursleys and my years at Hogwarts. He left me with them, despite Minerva's strong protestations, knowing what would happen to me there. Why did he do it? Because he needed to break me to mold me."

He smirked. "What never occurred to him was that, while battered, I was never broken. People always thought I had good luck on my side or that I had a death wish or, to quote Hermione, a saving people thing. Others just thought I was stupidly powerful. The truth of the matter is that my greatest strength, and greatest burden, is that I survive."

His eyes panned to his doppelganger parents. "Did you know he had it all planned out? He fully expected Voldemort to come for us, you see, and that you would both perish, leaving me alive to fight Voldemort when the maniacal bastard finally returned."

He held up a hand. "Oh, but don't think you're that special. He fully intended me to die, as well. Once Voldemort was reconstituted, the prophecy would come into play, which meant a final battle between us. For years, Dumbledore told me that my secret weapon against Voldemort, the power he knew not, was _love_."

He snorted. "Can you believe that tripe? Merlin knows I never did. I was supposed to beat Voldemort because of my love for others: my friends, my memories of you, for the wizarding world." He shook his head. "Trouble is, I had no memories of you, save Lily's death, which was courtesy of the Dementors. The wizarding world could be blown up for all I care, and I'd dance a jig upon its ashes."

He turned silent for a moment before his voice dropped. "But for my friends, yes, I would have died, gladly and without question." He sighed. "Voldemort knew that as well, so he killed all of them while forcing me to watch so that I would be further demoralized. And I was, I truly was, but I was also angry. Anger has accompanied me my entire life and I know how to use it effectively."

"Why you?" Lily whispered.

"Because Dumbledore allowed Snape to overhear the first part of the prophecy. He knew Snape would run to Voldemort, which he did. Upon hearing it, Voldemort believed the child who would defeat him was either myself or Susan." He shrugged. "So he chose the one who most reminded him of himself: the male, the so-called half-blood, the other direct descendent of a Founder. Voldemort, through Dumbledore, made the prophecy self-fulfilling.

"Voldemort came to the cottage that night and killed you both. He tried and failed to kill me. Dumbledore wrongly believed that Voldemort made me one of his horcruces."

Lily scoffed. "Ridiculous!"

Harry nodded, amused. "Indeed, but you must remember that Dumbledore kept all of his suspicions and information about Voldemort to himself. He never shared it with anyone and never asked for help. His arrogance helped to destroy the very world he sought to protect."

He spun on his heel and stared at his former Headmaster. "You were wrong, so very wrong, and do please save me from your nonsense about your nebulous _greater good_, because I know exactly whence that idea came."

Dumbledore paled.

Harry looked to Lily. "Are you also an Unspeakable in this world?"

Her eyes widened before hooding. "I was," she said cautiously.

"Why is it impossible for me to be a horcrux?"

"Because a human being cannot be a horcrux," she replied. "It is impossible to create a horcrux from a living thing."

"Voldemort's snake was a horcrux," he countered.

"The snake would have no consciousness, no sense of self or intelligence other than what Voldemort provided. You cannot store a piece of soul in the body of another human being, one which has a soul already. It would kill them both instantly."

"What about possession?" asked a curious Seamus.

Lily shook her head. "Possession occurs when the animated spirit enters the living body of its host. Souls and spirits are not analogous. Spirits, or ghosts, are psychic echoes of those who have died but refuse to move on. Souls flee the body immediately upon death and move onto realms I suspect will never be fully understood by mere mortals like ourselves."

Luna suddenly appeared at Harry's side, frightening the others, who had forgotten she was there. She sent a reproachful glare at Dumbledore. "I've never been accused of having much common sense, but it would appear I have far more than you. Voldemort used the Avada Kedavra on Harry, who reflected it back, the scar on his forehead the only sign of the spell cast against him.

"The curse is so effective because it kills instantaneously. The soul is immediately released and moves on. So, please, tell us, Headmaster, exactly how could Voldemort have created a Harry Horcrux when the reflected spell relieved him of any remaining soul?"

Dumbledore gaped like a fish for a long moment. "Well," he said finally, "I would assume that, as the creation of a horcrux requires the premeditated murder of an innocent, my counterpart believed Voldemort used either the death of James or Lily to create the horcrux to store in Harry."

"That's just stupid," Seamus complained, rolling his eyes. "What did he use to store his bit of soul then, between the time he killed Harry's parents and attempting to kill Harry? Further, if he had planned to use Harry's death to create a horcrux, your theory makes even less sense. Why would he place a piece of himself - in a move to render himself immortal - inside the head of someone he planned to kill? What was he going to do? Use preservation charms on Harry's body until he felt the need for his horcrux? Or is that you - oh, excuse me, your _counterpart_ - were under the impression that Voldemort just went around creating accidental horcruces?"

"And don't bother to placate us with your spiel that my Dumbledore is a different animal than you," Harry said. "In our travels through alternate worlds and realities, through time itself, we have learned all too well that people do not change. Circumstances change, but people don't." He grinned. "Also, I performed a wee scan on your diseased brain once you arrived at this office. You had every intention of manipulating me to dispose of your Voldemort for you, even if it meant my death. "

Lily growled as James choked.

"Don't deny it and risk further embarrassment, Albus," Harry said. "I know you very well, far more so than anyone currently alive, save, well, You Know Who."

James frowned. "Why are you suddenly using that asinine appellation? So far, you've only referred to Voldemort by name."

Harry beamed. "Oh, but Voldemort is not _Albus' _You Know Who."

Dumbledore dropped his eyes. "You must hate me very much."

Harry gave him a hard stare. "I don't," he said after a number of moments. "I love you very much."

A surprised Dumbledore raised his head, tears shining in his eyes.

"You meant well, Albus," Harry continued. "I honestly believe that. I believe that you loved me with all of your heart and saw in me the child or grandchild you never had. I believe you wanted my happiness, the very happiness you denied me. I don't believe you wanted me to die. I believe you did everything you could - though they were the _wrong_ things - to help me defeat Voldemort.

"I _have_ to believe that, because the idea that you didn't, that you were as evil as Voldemort, is not something I can countenance if I ever wish to have peace. Earlier I accused you of using Voldemort's methods, which is true, but you have vastly different aims. You're trying to save your society, a goal I admire, even if I don't agree that the wizarding world is truly worth saving."

"Do you really believe that?" James whispered.

"You would, too, had you lived my life."

"The problem, Headmaster," Luna said, "is that you also believe the ends justify any means, regardless of who is lost in the process. You used Harry as a sacrificial lamb to save people who had dedicated their lives to making his miserable." She scowled. "The moment, the very _moment_, you decide someone else's life is expendable is the moment you become the very evil you're fighting."

She walked over to his desk. "Of course, it was all for the greater good, yes?" She slid his candy dish toward him. "Lemon drop?"

A humbled Dumbledore bowed his head.

Harry smiled. "And that's why I love Luna Lovegood." He exhaled. "Yes, Albus, you made my life heinous, but because of you, I had Hermione Granger, the best friend and the most incredible witch this world has ever seen. Because of you, I had Ron Weasley and his family, which became my own. Because of you, I had Minerva McGonagall, who is far more important than you realize. Because of you, I had Remus Lupin, who was often my only solace in my very lonely life."

"And they're all dead," Seamus whispered. "Neville, Augusta, Hermione, Ron, the twins, Ginny, the rest of the Weasleys. All dead. McGonagall, Flitwick, Lupin, Susan, Hannah, Su, Cho, Lavender, Parvati and Padma. All dead." He shook his head, his lip quivering. "Dean." He sighed. "So many gone for no good reason."

Heart in her throat, Lily slowly crossed the boy and sank to the floor to look into his eyes. "I know you don't know me, Seamus, but I know you, at least this world's version of you. I remember the day that little Seamus Finnigan walked into the Great Hall, his curious eyes alight with wonder. I remember his fantastic if slightly vulgar sense of humor. I remember how he loved Charms and that he used to..."

"I denied Harry," he interrupted. "Me mam was so scared of Voldemort, she didn't want to believe Harry when he said the old bastard was back. She remembered the First War, in which witches like her who had married Muggles were killed for sport. She was terrified, wanted me away from Harry, who had been my roommate for five years. I was a mama's boy. I wanted my mother to feel safe, to allow me to return to Hogwarts. So I denied my friend."

"Seamus..." Harry whispered.

Seamus threw up a hand to silence him. "No. You were wrong to forgive me. I should have been willing to die for you, as you would have done for any one of us." He squeezed shut his eyes. "And you _did_, Harry. You died for us. Over and over and _over _again. For _years_ you died and, for years, we watched as pieces of you fell away because of Voldemort and his sick games.

"You were hollow, gutted. The only ones who _never_ turned on you were Hedwig, Hermione, and Luna. Hermione should be here now, not me. Hedwig would be a better choice." He cocked his head and turned thoughtful. "In fact, she might be an even better choice than Hermione."

Harry closed his eyes, though his tears leaked out regardless. Hermione's death had cracked his very soul, but Hedwig's death had nearly caused him to implode. No matter what anyone said, she had been so much more than just an owl.

Seamus turned back toward Lily. "They thought I was some big prize, you see, the Death Eaters. I was his roommate, so I must have been his friend." He smirked. "Their so-called intelligence was always spotty. They didn't know that I had turned on Harry, that we weren't speaking the summer after Sirius Black died.

"So when they took me, no one knew. They killed my parents and they took me and hid me in Malfoy Manor. My only real friend was Dean Thomas, a Muggleborn. We had decided not to owl each other that summer because post was being intercepted, so he didn't know I was missing until after the Welcoming Feast."

His eyes became haunted. "Seven months they had me. They let their devil spawn use me for target practice, for every curse you can think of, including two of the Unforgiveables. That's why my face looks like this. When they were through, their fathers would come in and heal me just enough so that I wouldn't die. Then they would rape me. They would heal me once more, and it would start all over again. All day, every day, for seven months."

Lily burst into tears, helpless to tear her gaze from his.

"It should be obvious that I'm quite mad," Seamus continued with utmost nonchalance. "I have these fits, get trapped in the flashbacks, can't distinguish one reality from the next. So Harry does it for me. I saw your husband's look of disgust when Harry kissed me in the Great Hall, but he does that because it's the only way to bring me back from wherever I go.

"You see," Seamus said in a singsong voice, "I don't really feel anything anymore. Bits and pieces, here and there, but nothing solid. But I _can_ feel Harry."

Harry walked over and placed loving hands on Seamus' shoulders.

"Harry has sex with me because it keeps me aware enough that I don't wander off and kill myself. Because I would. Harry is the only thing that tethers me to this dimension. I was always a little bit in love with him, you see, and now I'm the evil thing that rapes him."

"That is _not_ true," said a furious Harry.

"You don't love me, Harry," Seamus said. "I know that you do in your own way, for which I am thankful, but you're not in love with me, and that's okay. It really is. It does not, however, change the fact that I use you, that I beg you to use me, because I can't stand to be alone, can't stand the silence, not even in my own head."

Dumbledore took several deep breaths and had to turn away, unable to bear this sorrow, even secondhand.

"He saved me," Seamus said to Lily. "The Ministry did nothing. The Order did nothing. Dumbledore did nothing. All of that was par for the course and I knew that I would most likely die there. After the first two weeks, I was praying for it. But Harry _did_ something, because Harry is the only one who ever does _anything_. Despite what he says about our world, Harry loves it and the people in it. He would die to protect a complete stranger. There are no lengths to which he won't go to save his friends.

"When the school broke for winter hols, Harry rode the train back to Kings Cross and then left under his invisibility cloak. He followed every lead, upturned every rock, spent a ridiculous amount of gold, looked in every dark book in the Black library and around every corner to find me. And he did.

"Luna was with him because she's Luna and she does what she wants; no one's permission is required. They snuck into Malfoy Manor with the help of Narcissa. They rushed down to the dungeons, just in time to see Rabastan LeStrange raping me. Harry relieved the man of his head. Both of them."

James stared at his son. Because this boy _was_ his son, no matter what Harry had to say about it.

"He killed eleven Death Eaters to get me out of there, including Pettigrew. Luna killed Bellatrix in a battle that had to be seen to be believed. The woman honestly had no clue what to expect, how to fight someone who has no specific style, and Luna defeated her with ridiculous ease. Harry got us out of there right as Voldemort leveled his wand at Luna.

"Even though they never dated, were never in love with each other, and didn't even know each other until fifth year, there is something that ties the two of them together, something awesome and terrifying to behold. Those of us who knew Harry knew he would defeat Voldemort. Because it was expected of him, because it was the right thing to do, because it was for the greater good - whatever. But if Luna had been killed, Harry would have reduced the planet to a cinder. Not even Hermione or Hedwig could claim that."

Luna stepped forward, Harry's hand immediately engulfing her own.

Seamus leaned in towards Lily, eyes wide and voice breathy. "But do you know what's really scary? Luna would do _worse_. She's not as powerful, no one is, but she is _far_ more frightening. People have come to learn that lesson the hard way. It's quite amusing to witness."

Albus, James, and Lily stared at Luna in horror and fascination. She calmly hummed _Weasley is Our King_.

"Harry took me to his house," Seamus continued, "that horrible place he inherited from Sirius that Dumbles tried to steal out from under him. He healed me. He bathed me. He fed me. He took me to the bathroom. He slept next to me and held me when I awoke screaming, which was about every ten minutes. He is the only reason I'm alive and the only reason I remain alive."

Seamus paused. "Well, except for Luna, of course. She's quite batty, but not as insane as I am, so it creates a nice balance." His gaze turned fierce as it bore into Lily's eyes. "Your son is a hero. He doesn't like that word, doesn't believe it applicable to him, but it's exactly what he is. He is the bravest, most honorable, and kindest person I have ever met in my life. How he grew up to be such when all of the adults in his life did everything within their power to beat him down into submission, I don't know. But if I could, I would kill them all.

"So if you've ever wondered what it would be like had your Harry lived, take a look at my Harry, because I have no doubt that, regardless of circumstances, your son would also be a hero."

Seamus didn't even know he was crying until Lily's trembling hands reached up and gently wiped away his tears. He closed his eyes, thinking that Harry must have inherited his mother's touch.

"Thank you," Lily whispered. She went to look up at her son, but startled when she noticed his left hand on Seamus' shoulder. She stared at the band on his ring finger, black with burnished gold edges.

"You were married," she breathed.

Harry stiffened.

"Married!" James exclaimed. "Impossible! He's still a child!"

"I'm nineteen," Harry said coldly, "and I'm a widower. My husband is long dead."

"Husband," James dimly repeated.

"Oh, get over it," Harry snapped. "So I like boys. What of it? I like girls, too. I married the person I loved. I fell in love with what laid between his ears, not his legs."

James flushed and turned his head.

"Harry, you're only nineteen," Lily said gently. "How can your husband be long dead?"

Harry's lips thinned until they almost disappeared. "We married when I was fourteen. It wasn't intentional. We made promises to each other, but Magic itself took those promises as vows. The next day, we woke up to find handfasting cuffs tattooed on our wrists. I was happy about it; thrilled, actually. He loved me. I knew this like I know my own heartbeat. He was the only one to love me so unselfishly. He loved me not for my name or my title or my money. He just loved me. He knew everything about me and loved me anyway."

He grit his teeth. "I lost him later that year. He was killed in front of me."

Lily closed her eyes and sighed. She honestly didn't think she could take much more. In a way, she was glad she, or her counterpart or whatever, had died in Harry's universe, because she couldn't bear to have witnessed the horror that was his life. She could barely tolerate the recounting.

"Who did it?" James demanded.

Harry turned and offered his father a cruel smile. "Why, it was dear Uncle Peter."

James wanted to vomit, because it wasn't enough that fucking rat bastard had betrayed him and Lily, had killed this Harry's parents, had allowed Sirius to be imprisoned unjustly in Azkaban for over a decade. No, he had to kill Harry's husband, as well, the only bright spot in what James understood to be a life otherwise devoid of love or compassion.

"What was his name?" Lily whispered.

"No," Harry said, voice cracking. "I won't talk about him."

Luna ran her fingers through his hair. "In every universe, his husband is always dead. We've been to worlds where some, most, or all of our loved ones were alive and well, but never his husband. Fate has always been cruel to Harry, but this is far and away the most petty, spiteful, vindictive machination it has ever concocted."

"I won't say his name," Harry said, voice stronger. "I don't want to know if he's alive here. It wouldn't make any difference. He doesn't know me and he's not the man I loved. It would be too cruel to find him here only to have to leave and lose him again."

"What has been done to you, child?" Dumbledore murmured. "What is the purpose of these jumps I gather you are forced to make? Why _has_ Fate been so cruel to you?"

"Because of what he is," Seamus said.

"Because of what he will become," Luna added. "Pray you never have to learn just what that is."

The professors turned to regard Harry, but he had already retreated into his mind. He had to find out more about this world, but who was he to trust? Not Dumbledore, certainly. Not even his supposed parents because it was obvious they were far more interested in protecting him than helping. He couldn't rely on the Ron and Hermione of this world.

Minerva, perhaps, if he could get hold of a pensieve, and possibly Filius.

He repressed a sigh. He needed Dobby.

"Harry Potter has called for his Dobby!"

Harry paled and slowly dropped his head to look into the huge tennis-ball eyes staring back up at him.

"Dobby?" he whispered, his voice breaking on the second syllable.

"Dobby has been waiting for Harry Potter Sir!" the happy elf crooned. "Dobby has been waiting so very long!"

Luna whirled on her heel as Seamus shot to his feet.

"Impossible," Seamus whispered.

"Everything is possible, Mr. Leprechaun," Dobby insisted. "The Moon Goddess understands this."

A hesitant Luna stepped forward. "It's really you," she whispered, tears streaking down her face.

"You're Dobby," marveled a bewildered Harry. "My Dobby?"

"Yours! Master has freed Dobby!"

Harry's eyes lighted as he bent over and picked up the elf. Dobby's small arms and spindly legs immediately wrapped around Harry's neck and waist, respectively. Immediately the bond formed and Dobby released a long sigh of relief.

"Thank you, Harry Potter Sir," he said. "Thank you for staying with me until the end."

Tears spilled forth from Harry's eyes as he shook his head in misery. "You shouldn't have died. Not for me."

"Always for you," Dobby countered, "and only for you. You are Dobby's _friend_."

A befuddled James and Lily looked at each other. They had no idea what was happening.

"Master Harry dug Dobby's grave with his own hands," Dobby murmured. "No house elf has ever been so honored."

"You were, you _are_, so much more than a house elf," Harry said. "But how? How are you here?"

Dobby abruptly released him and fell to the floor, grinning. "_She_ sent me, She did! _She's_ trying so hard to help Master Harry but Fate keeps stopping Her." He leaned. "Don't worry, Master. She _will_ prevail. She always does."

Something akin to hope dawned in Harry's eyes, something neither Luna nor Seamus had seen since Hermione had been killed.

"And she sent someone else!" Dobby shrieked, dancing a jig. "I's will be back!"

Harry, Luna, and Seamus stared at each other, holding a conversation with their eyes. So intent were they that they missed Dobby's reappearance.

A frantic screech and Harry's heart stopped.

"It can't be."

But it was.

Hedwig, _his_ Hedwig, immediately alighted on his shoulder.

"Hedwig!"

The owl screeched again and covered his head with her wings before cooing at him.

"Hedwig!" Harry sobbed. "Oh, Hedwig!"

"Hedwig is ... an owl?" asked a confused James.

"She's much more than an owl," Luna growled. "She was his first friend. She was his surrogate mother. She was his big sister. She was _everything_ to him. It was to her that he told all of his secrets, secrets he daren't entrust to anyone else. She always looked after him, she always protected him, always supported him, never judged him. She was _there_. She intercepted an Avada Kedavra meant for him. It was her death more than any other that almost destroyed him."

"Hedwig is his familiar," Seamus continued, "but she's so much _more_. She's his first lieutenant. He trusts her more than he does anyone else. He listens to her when he won't listen to anyone else. And, yes, they understand each other perfectly. They may speak different languages, but never doubt for a second that they know exactly what the other is saying. She has saved his life over and over, and he has been lost without her."

"Which is why She sent the Wise One to him!" Dobby exclaimed.

"Who is this _She_?" Dumbledore asked.

Dobby raised a brow and looked at him before scoffing. "That's not for you to know, Mr. Whiskers. Yous is not being ready."

Hedwig released an angry cry as she was forcefully thrown from her boy.

Harry fell to his knees and screamed in agony. When he raised his head, they saw his scar had burst open. Black ichor was leaking down his face.

"He knows I'm here," Harry gasped. "The connection has been renewed."

"What do we do?" Luna asked.

"Kill him. Kill him and anyone who gets in our way."


End file.
